Valentine's Day
by diamondlovesyaoi6697
Summary: England loves America - America loves England. But - England thinks that America doesn't love him and America thinks that England doesn't love him. Until America tells England about his true feelings on Valentine's Day...


**Pairing: USUK  
>Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia, nor its characters.<br>Warning: yaoi, lemon, characters may or may not be OOC – I'm not sure.  
>I just decided to write something for Valentine's Day <strong>**yesterday****. So, it's probably rushed and may or may not be good… Anyway…This has some fluff. It's very unusual for me to write fluff…  
>But, it's Valentine's Day… SO IT SHALLZ BEH FLUFFEH! D:<br>Beware of the fluff – please do enjoy this cute, adorable (****possibly cheesy****, ****possibly clichéd****) fanfic!  
><strong>**PLEASE READ AND REVIEW****! :D**

* * *

><p>England sighed bitterly, his thick eyebrows furrowed in frustration as he rocked obliviously in his rocking chair. The island nation decided to spend his time by doing needlework, content that France wasn't there to interrupt him like he normally do. Instead, France was probably wooing a lucky woman or man with his cuisines and charming mannerisms. Those types of things weren't hard for France to do – he <em>was<em> the City of Love after all. England sighed again, loathing over how many times he spent Valentine's Day _alone_. He always went about the day by doing paperwork and knitting, and the island nation had grown tired of his distressing routine every year.

England rose quietly from his rocking chair, walking somberly into his kitchen to prepare a kettle of tea for himself. After his freshly-made Earl Grey tea was brewed, the island nation went outside to watch the sunrise. He sat down on the wooden bench swing, his emerald orbs turning northward to look at the sky. A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he stared at the breath-taking view:

Tiny hints of extravagant shades of orange, pink, and purple adorned the sky. Soon after, a fiery ball of deep yellow, red and orange hues came into view from the east, lighting up the sky with its enchanting luminescence. Wispy cirrus clouds slowly advanced with the whispering wind, contrasting beautifully with the colors of the sunrise. England sipped his tea quietly, letting the warm liquid travel down his throat to soothe his frayed nerves. He always enjoyed watching sunrises and sunsets, using them as a source of tranquility after stressful and bothersome days.

_It's Valentine's Day again, _the island nation thought irritably to himself. The gentle smile that was on his face quickly receded into a keen frown, the grip on his mug tightening and his eyebrows furrowing, once again, in frustration. He truly hated this time of the year. It's not like he hated Valentine's Day itself, he just hated the way how he always spent it – _alone._

Valentine's Day – the day when people express their love and admiration by presenting gifts of flowers, chocolate and other confectionery to their special beloved. England had someone he admired – no, it was much more than admiration. By any means, he still admired him – the third-largest and strongest nation in the world – America.

How many times had England fantasized about being with him? Too much to count. England was an island nation with a vivid imagination, so it was fairly easy for him to do so. However, he refrained from envisioning abundantly because it always left him wanting and yearning – along with a tangible feeling of dejection and it reminded him of how lonely he _actually_ was.

How long had he loved America? It's been too long to remember. Ever since he became the 'big brother' of the tiny, yet powerful nation long before, his feelings began to blossom. England had been limply hanging onto false hopes and dreams for a long, _long_ time, hoping that America would love him back or at least accept his feelings. He had sent him many subtle hints and indications, but the idiot was too oblivious to notice them. Who was he kidding? _America_ love _him_? Why would he? He wasn't anything special. He didn't have any outstanding qualities about him to attract the powerful nation. It was just a baseless dream like many – a dream that always left him hurting afterwards.

England hunched over whilst sitting on the bench swing, his eyes squeezed shut and his teeth clenched tightly. Tears slowly fell from under his eyelids, draining down his face and dripping onto the patio. Why did unrequited love hurt so much? Would he spend the rest of his life like this? Hurting and crying and holding onto life by a fantasy that was, most likely, _never _going to happen?

The island nation wiped his face on the back of his hand, sniffing quietly and trying his best to stop more tears from falling. It's not like England hadn't tried to move on. He tried many times, but it was hard to do so when you see the object of your pain and frustration at every World Meeting. The island nation got up and went back inside of his house. He needed a bath – hot water always calmed him down after his emotional breakdowns.

If this keeps up, would England ever be happy?

* * *

><p>America woke with a start, jostling under the covers of his bed when he heard a clashing sound from the kitchen. He trotted quickly to find the source of the loud noise, only to find Tony making breakfast. Apparently, a pot dropped on the floor. Tony smiled at his friend and America sighed, turning away from the alien and walking back to his room. Tony was confused – this wasn't how his friend usually acted. He was much more cheerful and energetic. What was wrong with him?<p>

Tony ran to the powerful nation and pulled on the hem of his shirt, forcibly stopping him.

"Hmm? What's wrong, Tony?" America asked as he turned to look over his shoulder at the alien.

"Fucking, fucking, fucking," Tony replied in his…_interesting_ language which America, somehow, understands.

"What's wrong with me? There's nothing wrong, dude," the powerful nation said, feigning a cheerful tone to his voice, hoping that Tony would believe him.

"Fucking, fucking, fucking, fucking," muttered the suspicious alien.

"Really! There's nothing wrong, Tony," America always forgot how sharp Tony was, even if he was just an alien.

"Fucking, fucking."

"No. I don't want any hamburgers today. Maybe another time," the powerful nation muttered in a small voice.

"Fucking limey! Fucking, fucking, fucking!"

"What do you mean if it's about England? ! Why did you bring him up?"

"Fucking, fucking, fucking, fucking."

"I always get depressed whenever it's about England, huh? Tch."

Tony grabbed his keys and advanced to the door.

"Fucking, fucking, fucking, fucking," the alien stated before opening and walking through the door.

" 'You better be normal by the time I get back home tomorrow' ? What does he mean by 'normal'?" the powerful nation pondered.

"Huh. Valentine's Day again," America murmured quietly as he sat down on his couch, sighing deeply through his nose and running his fingers through his disheveled blond locks.

_Another year alone_, he thought to himself. Suddenly, his thoughts were racing with flashing images of England – his charming smile, his adorable laughter, the way he pouts whenever someone picks on him – _everything_ about England made his heart flutter with want. But it's not like he can tell England the way he felt about him. What if the England rejects him? Being rejected by the one you love is the worst feeling in the world.

America began to feel those emotions towards England for a long while, but refused to act upon them. It was too risky. He didn't want England to hate him even more than he already did.

But…what _if_ England loved him back?

_Nah…That'll never happen_, he thought bitterly.

For a long time, he'd imagine him and England as lovers – taking walks through parks and going on dates like lovey-dovey couples do. But, reality would strike him, brutally telling him that _it won't ever happen._ What's the point of brooding on his desires? It'll only bring pain in the end.

How long has it been since America loved England? Longer than you'd imagine. As he grew under England's parental supervision, he began to think of his 'big brother' in a romantic way. This left the tiny nation confused. Why was he thinking of his 'big brother' that way? That had been his question for years until he was old enough to answer it himself.

He wanted to tell England he loved him for a long time, but the thought of the island nation rejecting and hating him only brought more pain – more hurt. At one point in his life, the pain became too much for him to bear. He wanted to forget about him, he wanted to move on – but he couldn't. He just couldn't move on no matter how much he tried to. Thoughts of England _always _came back to him, making him fail miserably in his resolve.

The powerful nation rested his head into his hands, absently pulling at his hair as frustration overwhelmed him. America could only take so much. He was nearing his limit. He _had _to tell England about his feelings within that day.

Could he do it? Did he have enough courage to risk that very important person hating him?

Yes. The United States of America is capable of doing anything if he really wanted to – and he really wanted to do this. He had to tell England about his feelings.

_He had to…_

* * *

><p>America's trembling fingers slowly dialed England's number. He brought the phone to his ears and listened to the ringing – which stopped when the island nation answered the phone.<p>

"Hello?" America's heart jumped when he heard that familiar, calming British accent on the phone.

"H-hey, England," the powerful nation mentally kicked himself for sounding so nervous and slurring over his speech.

"America?" England muttered in disbelief, gasping inaudibly. He needed to get his caller ID fix. If it was fixed, he surely would _not_ have answered the phone.

"Yeah. Um… You know that meadow you always took me to when I was younger?"

"Of course, idiot," England said, rolling his eyes at the obvious question.

"Can we meet there at one o'clock?"

"S-sure," England replied – he glanced at his clock. It was 8:37 a.m. He had time.

"Okay, then… Bye," the powerful nation murmured before hanging up.

When England heard America hang up, he stared at the phone, arching a thick brow in confusion.

"What the bloody hell was that all about?" he pondered aloud.

What _if_…!

_NO! Don't get your hopes up_, England thought distressingly to himself.

_It won't ever happen…_

* * *

><p>America lay down in his bed, trying to think of something to buy for England. If he was going to confess his feelings, he certainly could not go empty-handed – even if he might be rejected. He changed his clothes and grabbed his car keys. He hopped into his car and drove to a floral store. England would like flowers, right? He hoped so…<p>

He walked into the store and his eyes scanned over all of the floral plants, pondering which one to buy. The assistant noticed him and made her way over to his form.

"Hello, sir! Would you like any assistance?" the cheerful girl asked with a genuine smile.

"Uh…Yes, please," he _did_ need help with these types of things. He wasn't France.

"For your girlfriend?"

"Not quite…"

"For your boyfriend?"

"..."

"Ah. I see. You like him, but you're not sure if he likes you," the assistant caught on quickly.

"How did you-?"

"I'm a romanticist. A romance extraordinaire, if you will. I will do my best to help you, sir!" the assistant's determination was clearly evident.

"Wait…you're not grossed out even though I like a _guy?_"

"Nope! Love is love, right?" the assistant winked at him, making him smile at her kindness.

"I guess so. Thank you," he muttered quietly.

"No problem!"

The generous assistant helped America until he finally made his choice. He paid her money for his purchase, but gave her more, as a tip, for her helpful assistance.

He hopped in his car once more and drove to his next destination. He knew that England had a secret sore spot for sweets, so he stopped to a confectionery shop. He walked inside, gaping in awe at the various types of chocolates and pastries in the store. Because it was Valentine's Day, the manager of the store was the person aiding the customers. He walked over to America with a cheerful smile on his face.

"Hello! Would you like any help on choosing what you have in mind to purchase?" the man asked kindly.

"Uh… Yeah."

"I assume it's for your special someone?" America smiled at the man's words.

"Yeah. He's pretty special to me."

_So it's a guy~_ the manager thought to himself,_ Ah. Young love~._

"Let's take a look at the different options we have so you can decide what you want to buy for him."

"Huh? Is everyone fine with me liking a guy?" this confused America. He thought that there'd surely be a person who would look at him scornfully.

"Sure! Love is love, right?" the manager smiled warmly at him.

"The lady at the floral store said the same thing," he murmured thoughtfully.

"Thank you," America said, smiling genuinely at the man in front of him.

"No problem, sir! It's my duty to assist my customers. Would you like to buy pastries or chocolates for him?"

"Chocolates."

"Good. Come with me so that we can take a look at what's in stock."

"Okay."

After purchasing his choice, he decided to buy a card for England. He drove to Hallmark and walked into the store, immediately strolling to the section with the Valentine's Day cards. An assistant made her way over to him.

"Hello, sir! Would you like any help?"

"No, thanks," he didn't need help with buying a card.

"Very well, then. Take your time," the assistant said with a warm smile before she turned away from him.

America nodded and turned his attention back to the stack of cards in the front of him. After reading through some of them, he found one that he really liked. He walked over to the cash register and bought the card. After that was done, America glanced at his watch. It was eleven o'clock.

He made his way back to his home and took a shower. After cleansing his body, he began to put on the clothes that he already had picked out that morning. He applied a pleasantly fragrant cologne onto his body and stared at his reflection in the mirror. He wore a neatly-pressed white dress shirt and black dress pants, along with a black tie and a pair of black and white Converse. He looked presentable.

"Well. Here goes nothing," he muttered to himself before he grabbed his car keys once more, along with his most-recently purchased items.

* * *

><p>By the time America got to the meadow, he was half-an-hour early, but he didn't mind. Before he did anything else, he hid England's gifts in a big, black plastic bag he brought with him. He didn't want England to see them when he'd first arrive and the meadow didn't have shrubbery plants where he could've hidden them behind.<p>

In the center of the meadow, there was an iron bench. He strolled over to it with the black plastic bag in his right hand and placed it next to the legs of the bench. America sat down, reminiscing about the times when he was a child and how often England brought him there to play. That one thought alone made him smile to himself. England was always so nice to him – so gentle, so caring.

America watched the flowers in the meadow. The tulips, daisies, cosmos, and blossoms swayed and danced in the wind – they certainly were beautiful.

England was punctual as usual. He walked quietly through the meadow, his eyes lurking around until he saw America's form sitting in the middle of the grassy, flowery field. He seemed to be deep in thought. Why did America tell him to come here?

America didn't notice him, though. He was too busy thinking of the words he wanted to say and how he would say them. He didn't want to screw things up, so he had to get it right the first time.

"America?" England finally decided to speak.

America gasped and turned his head quickly to the side. England didn't bother to sit down. The island nation eyed the powerful nation with concern. He never once saw America so reticent and still. He was even acting weird on the phone – he wasn't his usual loud and obnoxious self. Something was wrong…

England's concern grew when America eyed him seriously.

"America? Is there something wrong-"

"England, you're wondering why I called you all the way here, aren't you?" America was talking quietly, but England was in his earshot, so he heard him.

"That's hardly the issue here. What's wrong with you?"

"I need to talk to you about something important."

Important? England was confused. What could've been so important that America wanted to talk to him there?

"I sometimes come to this meadow and think about when I was a kid. I think about how we played with each other, about how you taught me English, and cared for me. I think about how I used to fall a lot and you'd always kiss my bruises to make them feel better…"

England's eyes widened. _Why is he bringing this up?_, he thought to himself – but he kept listening.

"I sit here sometimes and wonder, 'what if England never took care of me?' and I normally cast that thought away because I can't bear with the thought of not knowing you. Then my thoughts would lead to you and only you. Your sparkling green eyes, your bright smile, your personality – everything about you makes me happy. A long time ago, I asked myself 'what do I really think of England? Do I think of him as a brother, a friend or…" America's voice trailed off as he made eye contact with England for the second time.

"…or something more than just a friend?"

England gaped. He tried to say something, but he couldn't find the words.

"It took me a long time to realize my feelings for you. I didn't tell you about them because I was afraid that you'd hate and reject me – so I kept them bottled up this whole time. Over and over, I wasted my time fantasizing about you and me _together_, but I'd convince myself that'd it would never happen. But deep down, I kept hoping and wishing that it would."

America stood up from the iron bench and slowly walked over to where England was standing. The island nation couldn't move; he could only listen to America's words.

"What I'm trying to say, England, is that… I love you."

Time seemed to freeze for the island nation. America's confession rang through England's ears and lingered there; the words he thought he'd never hear repeated themselves over and over. The wind blew softly, lightly tossing the pair's hair about. England still stood there stricken in disbelief, his heart thumping wildly in his chest. His feelings were reciprocated and he didn't know to react. America turned around and opened the black plastic bag. He took out the contents and held them in his hands:

A dazzling bouquet of daisy poms with hues of yellow, orange, lavender, white, pink, and purple were in sitting an auburn crystal glass vase. Three boxes of gift-wrapped Belgium Bliss chocolates were in his free hand, along with the Hallmark card. America motioned for England to take the card from him so that he can read it. England, with trembling fingers, took a firm hold of the card and he slowly opened it. It read:

_Please be my Valentine,__  
><em>_Not only on this day.__  
><em>_But every day throughout the years,__  
><em>_You're my best friend in every way.__  
><em>_You are my box of Chocolates,__  
><em>_In each piece, there's a sweet surprise.__  
><em>_You shower me with diamonds,__  
><em>_With the enchanting sparkles in your eyes.__  
><em>_You're like a dozen of roses;__  
><em>_You are my heart's bouquet.__  
><em>_You've given my life meaning,__  
><em>_Like none other throughout my life.__  
><em>_You always bring me comfort,__  
><em>_When my heart is filled with strife.__  
><em>_You are my ray of sunshine,__  
><em>_You're truly my best friend.__  
><em>_I hope that our souls will be joined together__  
><em>_In a closeness that'll never end.__  
><em>_You'll always be special to me,__  
><em>_Beyond the end of time.__  
><em>_You give me so much care, so much love,__  
><em>_Please be my Valentine._

_I love you_

"I love you, England," America repeated, and England looked up. The island nation didn't realize that he was crying. Tears were continuously falling down his face as he stared at the Valentine's Day card in his hands.

"Y-you love m-me?" England asked cautiously. He just wanted to make sure that he heard America's words right.

"Yeah," America replied, resting the bouquet of flowers and boxes of chocolates onto the iron bench.

More tears fell down his cheeks as his glassy emerald orbs found their way to America's face.

"I-"

America stood there, waiting patiently for England's response to his heart-felt confession. He couldn't confirm whether or not England actually loved him back just yet, so he prepared for the worst.

"I-I love you, too," England muttered quietly, trembling more as his hidden emotions got the better of him.

"R-really? !" America was shocked. He was sure that England was going to yell at him or something. He wasn't expecting his feelings to be returned.

"For a long time, actually," England said with more tears rolling down his cheeks.

America closed the gap between them with one stride. With his eyes locked on the island nation's, he tilted England's chin upward with his right hand before capturing his lips in a kiss. The kiss was timid at first, as if America wanted to test the waters. Both pairs of eyes fluttered closed as the kiss became slow, sensual, and passionate; confirming the feelings they felt for one another.

America pulled away from England, his cerulean orbs staring into wide emerald greens intensely.

"So…this means we can date?" America asked curiously.

"Yes, you idiot," England replied, smiling brightly as he clasped America's hand. America grinned with happiness and began to pull away from the island nation's grip to grab the flowers and chocolates.

"We'll come back for those later. I want to walk around first," the island nation said, tightening his grip on America's hand and entwining their fingers.

The pair smiled at each other, tightening their entwined fingers as they slowly strolled through the meadow. Both of their desires, their fantasies, and their dreams of being together were finally able to come true. They would never spend Valentine's Day alone anymore…

…_because they had each other to spend it with._

* * *

><p>It has been one month since the sturdy foundation of their relationship was built, and everyone around the world was aware of it. But that was America's fault. He proudly announced that England was '<em>his<em>' at the World Meeting, and everyone supported them – which was odd. Well, everyone except for France, who just _had_ to be the dick he was and taunt England about being the '_bitch_' in the relationship. But America came out of nowhere at that moment and punched France's jaw slack, angrily telling him not to '_talk to his babe like that'_, which caused England to blush in embarrassment.

Their relationship as a couple was going well and they understood each other fully. However, unlike most couples, they hadn't had any physical contact yet. America was not going to touch England until he was positive that he was ready. He didn't want to push the island nation into doing something he wasn't sure that he wanted to do.

* * *

><p>England and America was spending their time watching <em>Inception<em>, but they weren't paying that much attention to the movie because they watched it on multiple occasions before. America was sitting Indian-style in the couch and England sat, quite comfortably, in his lap. Truth be told, England was ready to have sex with America for weeks – he just wanted to see how long he'd last.

_I wanted to see if I could've lasted for two months, but I lasted a little over a month. Close enough_, England thought to himself.

England was nearing the point of ripping his hair out – he was _sexually starved._ And when America sometimes changes his clothes in the front of him, it _doesn't_ help.

"America. I want sex. Now," England demanded, his emerald green eyes burning with desire.

"What? Really?" America turned his attention away from the movie and to the island nation.

"Yes."

"Fine," America muttered before lifting England bridal-style and walking to the bedroom they shared.

He laid England in the bed before crawling and hovering over the him.

"How do you wanna do this?"

"I don't care. Just fuck me."

"Ooh~ Demanding," America said, smiling before capturing England's lips in a kiss. The island nation snaked his arms around his neck and returning the kiss with just as much enthusiasm. America's fingers proceeded to unbutton his lover's shirt, removing the obstructing fabric and throwing it on the floor. After this, he divested himself of his shirt, as well.

England parted his lips, granting America entrance to explore his mouth. America ran his moist, wet tongue along England's lips before pressing and mapping out every part of his lover's mouth. The island nation moaned lowly in his throat, loving the way America's tongue felt against his own. The powerful nation pulled away, drawing in large gulps of much-needed air before latching his mouth onto the island nation's jaw line.

"H-how long were you holding out for?" England asked breathlessly, shallow pants passing his lips as America's lips moved lower and lower.

"A long time. If I wanted to be a selfish bastard, I would've taken you right there in the meadow a month ago," America replied in between kisses.

"Idiot."

America chuckled against England skin, his warm breath fanning over the island nation's heated flesh, evoking a loud gasp from the other – his neck was one of the most sensitive places on his body. The powerful nation's blunt teeth grazed along the outer shell of England's ear, compelling a violent shudder from the island nation. America's lips moved along England's neck, stopping ever so often to suck and nip at the flesh, to leave dark, red blotches on the pale, creamy skin, to mark him as '_his_'. England's fingers wound into America's hair, pushing lightly in encouragement and a silent request to pick up the pace. But the powerful nation wanted to take his time.

"S-stop t-teasing, you git."

"I'm not teasing. I'm just enjoying myself~," the powerful nation said smugly, smirking against England's skin as he moved lower.

His left hand moved along the island nation's chest. His fingers played with England's right nipple – pulling, tugging and pinching the pert bud. England caught his bottom lip between his teeth and whimpered feebly. America's lips covered the neglected nipple, his tongue teasing and agitating the hardened flesh in his mouth. England moaned breathily, his emerald green eyes fluttering closed as arousal circulated throughout his body.

America moved lower, his lips and tongue tasting every part of his lover's flushed skin. The island nation's arousal pressed against his pants, twitching in anticipation as America toyed with his aroused body. The powerful nation's mouth covered the very noticeable yet clothed erection, smiling with satisfaction as he watched his lover squirm and buck.

The powerful nation unzipped England's pants and pulled them down, along with his underwear. England's eyes flew open and sought out America's, his lips slightly parted and his eyes clouded with hunger. America's fingers curled around the shaft of England's erection, giving the length slow, teasing strokes before brushing his lips against the head.

The island nation threw his head back in pleasure and a loud mewl passed his lips as America engulfed his throbbing member. He whimpered and groaned, his fingers clutching the sheets, his body writhing and bucking at the sensation of a hot, wet mouth swallowing his arousal. America's cerulean eyes never left England's emerald green's, making the making his erotic actions even more intense.

America bobbed his head slowly, never increasing his speed, his tongue languidly circling and running along the turgid length in his mouth. He tongued the slit, evoking a choked cry from the island nation. As he sucked, the fingers of his right hand felt along the bed for the bottle of lubricant he had there. When he found it, he gave one last suck before he pulled away, extracting a displeased whine from the other.

"I don't want you to come yet~," America purred into England's ear, his fingers uncapping the bottle and coating three fingers in the cool, slippery fluid.

England panted quietly, his body on fire and wanting more friction, more of America's touches, more of _everything_. He spread his legs further, silently pleading for more contact. America was so aroused, so hard, so _painfully_ hard but he wanted to take his time – he wanted to pleasure England so much that the island nation would always remember how it felt when America took him for the first time.

America pressed a slicked digit to England's entrance, rubbing and teasing the twitching hole before dipping between the muscle. England gasped and hissed in pain, his hips bucking off of their own accord and his fingers tightening in the sheets. America fingers caressed the pale skin of the island nation's thighs, trying to distract his lover from the discomfort he felt. His finger slowly pushed and prodded at England's inner walls and the island nation moaned, his muscles twitching continuously before relaxing.

The powerful nation felt the constriction around his finger lessen and he added a second digit. His slicked fingers moved with scissoring motions and worked against his lover's rectum, stretching and loosening the tight muscle. America curled his fingers, grazing the edge of England's prostate and evoking an animalistic cry of pleasure from the other.

"Do t-that a-again, please!" England begged, his hips pressing against America's fingers, desperately wanting more of that copious amount of bliss that coursed through his body.

The powerful nation's repeated his actions, curling and pushing his fingers against the sensitive bundle of nerves with a tad bit more force. England whimpered and moaned, trembling and shuddering violently, pre-come oozing from his length and back arching as America's fingers assaulted his prostate. The powerful nation added a third finger, his pace still languid, and thoroughly stretched his lover's entrance.

After America deemed that England was ready for him, he removed his fingers and pressed his lips to England's. They kissed for a while before America pulled away and squeezed a generous amount of lubricant into his palm. He spread the cool gel along his throbbing member and aligned himself with his lover's eager entrance.

England's hand sought out America's and he smiled lovingly as he entwined their fingers. The powerful nation tightened his grip as he slowly slid himself between England's stretched opening, not stopping until he was sheathed to the hilt. A guttural cry tore its way from the island nation's throat as he was filled by America. They stayed connected as one for a few moments, the powerful nation resisting the urge to move and preventing himself from hurting England.

"M-m-move," England muttered softly.

America nodded and rocked back and forth, starting a steady rhythm, groaning in pleasure as England's hot, silken walls clamped around him.

The powerful nation's thrusts were slow, yet deep, impaling and extracting mewls and cries from his lover. America refused to accelerate his pace. He wanted England to know, _to feel_ how much he loved him. The island nation rocked back in time to meet America's languid thrusts, forcing the powerful nation's length deeper within him, seeing stars in his vision as his prostate was jabbed with each plunge.

Their slow, passionate actions spoke louder than their words. Their fingers were still entwined, their grips tightening and their impending orgasm drawing nearer and nearer as they whispered sweet nothings in each other's ears. Their groans, moans, and pants filled the air as they showed their affection through physical contact. Their continuous chants of '_I love you's _lasted until they both climaxed – England's release landing on his stomach and America's release filling the small nation.

America pulled out of England and collapsed on the side of him, pulling him into a passionate embrace and capturing his lips in a smoldering kiss. As they pulled away, they smiled and both pairs of eyes gazed in one another. England made himself comfortable in America's cradling embrace, his body spent and craving sleep.

"I love you," England murmured quietly as his eyelids drooped lethargically. He fell asleep right after. America chuckled quietly and placed a butterfly kiss on England's temple.

"I love you, too," he muttered before falling into the depths of slumber along with England.

_THE END_

* * *

><p><strong>Diamond: AWWW! Wasn't that adorable? ! *-*<br>America and England: …yeah…  
>Bambii: O_O<br>Diamond: Hmm. Bambii isn't used to me writing fluff…  
>Diamond: Diamond says to show Bambii's inner feelings for two seconds…<br>Bambii: OMG! IT WAS SO FLUFFEH! Cute! :D  
>Diamond: Yupz!<br>Diamond: This was the fastest I have ever written something. I feel so accomplished! XD  
>America: So, you're normally lazy when it comes to writing?<br>Diamond: Yup. But Bambii always yell at me when I don't write fast enough. -_-'  
>Bambii: Your fanfictions are AWESOME!<br>Diamond: Yeah. I heard that enough times from you. -_-'  
>*France enters the scene*<br>France: Bonjour, mes amis! How are you all spending the day of l'amour?  
>Diamond: I'm spending it like normal days and Bambii's baking.<br>France: Bambii knows how to bake?  
>Bambii: Yes…<br>Diamond: Hellz yeah, she does! One time she brought red velvet cupcakes that she baked to school and they were soooooo yummy! :D  
>Bambii: They weren't that good…<br>Diamond: Shut up! You have no say in this. Anyway, France…they were totally yummy. BEST. CUPCAKES. EVER! XD  
>France: Well, Bambii can work in my famous pastry shop if she wants to…<br>Bambii: I want to! XD  
>France: *pulls Bambii towards him* Well, let's go sign the paperwork! *both of them leaves the scene*<br>Diamond: Good luck, Bambii! *turns to America and England* Well, it's just the three of us.  
>America and England: Mhm… *silence and heavy atmosphere*<br>Diamond: I am sensing sexual tension.  
>England: W-what? !<br>Diamond: Diamond says to lock America and England up in a luxury hotel room.  
>*the both of them disappear – they are in a suite of a five-star hotel*<br>Diamond: The door won't open until they're finished with fucking each other~ And there's a tiny video camera that's connected to my laptop in the ceiling above the bed! Hehehe! WE ALL WIN! But… I mostly win~ :3  
>Diamond: Please review, my lovely readers! :D<strong>

**HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY! ! :DDDD *le wink***


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